"Three more cars and we're done," Wil said.

"How much money have you made so far?" Marvin asked.

"Over $200," Molly said proudly.

Wil walked over to the silver lunch box and slid in three $10 bills. Just as she went to slam it shut, it slipped off the stoop and crashed to the ground. All eyes turned to the money on the ground. Wil frantically picked it up and slapped it in her hand.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean it. Don't worry, I got it."

For a split second I thought about what we had all seen. Money. Easy money. And lots of it.

"Let's go play," J.J. shouted.

"We've got to finish picking up," Molly said. We hung all the towels over the ledge. Eddie picked one up and turned it into a whip. Soon everybody started running around and smacking each other with towel whips. I looked around again at all the kids running around, and then glanced at the silver lunch box. Nobody will touch it. I ran after J.J. and down the alley between the Uptown Apartments and the corner store. Not even 30 seconds later, I was back out front. I looked to the porch, and my eyes grew wide. The lunch box lid was open and the money was gone.

"Where's the money?" I asked calmly.

"The what?" Mike said.

"The money," I said. "It was right here."

Mr. O'Malley stood up from behind his station wagon.

"What's with the money?" he asked.

"My dad has it," I said coolly, and I smiled. "He must have taken it."

My heart skipped a beat. I wanted him so badly for my father to have taken the money home. I wasn't sure, but Mr. O'Malley believed me.

"All right, then," he said and he turned to his children. "Molly, Annie and Frankie, you're in the house at eight. Not a second later."

As soon as Mr. O'Malley got in the car and started his engine, we all started blurting out questions.

"Where is it?"

"Does Mr. H have it?"

"Whoever took it better give it back."

"Don't say a word to any adults," I said. "Not until we get this straightened out."

My father pushed through the front doors. All eyes turned to him.

He grinned as he asked, "What are you kids up to now?"

"We're gonna play some soccer on the field to get ready for camp," I said.

"All right then," he said. "You and your brother are home by eight."

Then he looked at the empty silver box. "Where's the money?"

My eyes fell to the ground.

"My dad has it," Molly said coolly.

I looked at her, breathed a sigh of relief, and then felt crummy all over again. When my father left, everyone gathered around in a tight huddle.

"Who took it?" Molly looked around and yelled at everyone. "Just admit it. Who took it?"

"This isn't right," Wil said. "That was our money. We worked hard for that money."

"Hold up!" I called out. "Yelling at each other isn't gonna do us any good."

"We all know who did it," J.J. said. "Look around. Guess who's not here."

I glanced around desperately wanting to see Marvin among us. But he was no where to be found.

"Not again," Angel mumbled.

What Marvin did made everyone angry and miserable. So many times we thought he had taken something, but we never had any evidence. Some kids got so fed up with it that they tried to set him up just so they could frame him.

But they never caught Marvin.

"I told you he was a thief," Eddie yelled. "You got yourself a problem. We're out of this one. Let's go."

While a bunch of the boys followed Eddie down to the park, J.J. and Cowboy stayed behind. I started looking around the porch and in the bushes. "Maybe it got lost somewhere in here," I said.

"You know he took it," Cowboy said to me and he shook his head. "Somebody's got to talk to that kid."

"What are we gonna tell Mr. G?" Molly asked. "He's gonna be so mad."

"Somebody has to go get it back from Marvin," Wil said.

"Who's gonna do it?" Rosie asked.

"I'd do it," Cowboy said, "but I don't know him that well. It's got to be somebody from Broadway."

"I'll do it," Molly offered.

That was not a good idea. If Molly went to get it back, she'd probably smack poor Marvin upside the head. Then Marvin would deny it, and we'd never see the money again. I looked around at the rest of my friends. J.J. walked away. Cowboy shrugged as he followed right behind him. I turned to the rest of the Ballplayers. Wil would be too nervous to approach Marvin. Rosie was too shy. Angel could have done it, but she didn't know Marvin as well as the rest of us.

"I'll do it," I said. "As long as nobody says a word to him. If we jump all over his case, he'll deny it. Then we'll never get it back."

"You better talk to him before he spends it all," Wil said.

"It's late, and I've got to be in by eight," I said. "I don't have enough time tonight. And if I come in late, my father's going to want to know why, and then he'll be mad at me for not telling him what happened."

"Do it first thing in the morning," Angel added.

Everyone agreed that I had to get up first thing in the morning and take care of the situation. After kicking the soccer ball around on the field for a few minutes, we walked to the corner of Woodside and Broadway and called it a night.

"I hope you get it back," Wil said to me as she went inside her apartment building.

I said good-bye to Molly and Rosie, and they turned west down Broadway Ave. Angel and I walked east down Broadway together.

"Are you nervous?" Angel asked.

"About what?" I said.

"Talking to Marvin," she replied.

"Nah," I said. "I'll think about it tonight."

My friend was called Angel for a good reason. When Angela Russomano wasn't at the park playing ball or hanging out with us, she was at church with her family. I could always count on her for good advice.

"Marvin's a good kid," she said. "I believe it. But somebody has to talk to him and tell him that," Angel said.

"He's gonna get mad at me," I muttered.

"You're doing him a favor," she called out as she walked up her porch. "You might be the only one who can help him."

Angel pulled open her front door and took a deep breath. "Good luck, P," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As I walked along by myself, I tried to do as my grandmother always told me. In my mind, I climbed into Marvin's body and tried to see things through his eyes. After a few seconds, I realized I couldn't do it. I came from a strong family with a mom and dad and grandmother who loved me. I was athletic, smart, and popular. Everyone wanted to be my friend. I believed in hope and goodness. He won't listen to me. Why should he? With all the sad, discouraging things around him, how could anyone blame Marvin for not believing in anything and for doing what he did? Nobody cared to get to know him. They had already called Marvin out as a poor kid with no future.

I laid awake that night staring through the darkness. I replayed what I would say to Marvin over and over in my mind. I thought of every kind of reaction he would give me, and how I would handle it.

With all of my friends depending on me, I had no idea what the next day would bring.